


Fruit of Temptation

by PrincessDianaArtemis



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Chocolate, Crowley Does "Weird Things" With Tongue (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Feeding Kink, Food Kink, Hair-pulling, Hand Feeding, He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Marathon Sex, Married Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, fruits, implied - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29502906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessDianaArtemis/pseuds/PrincessDianaArtemis
Summary: Crowley gifts his angel all the best sweets he could think of and keeps him indulging for hours and hours.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61
Collections: Top Crowley Library





	Fruit of Temptation

Hazel eyes opened to silky darkness around him, the familiar stacks of books and knick-knacks around the bed loomed as shadows against the walls. 

Aziraphale’s bare pale skin was dappled in the shadows which played along him as he wiggled to get comfortable. Hips and oversensitive arse rubbed against the soft, silken sheets underneath him, the only part that could freely move. His ankles and wrists tied with his knees spread and tented up to expose his glistening cunt to the candle-warmed air around him.

From within the darkness, wide golden eyes watched him and a pink, snakelike tongue flicked out to taste the tangy twist of arousal in the air, “Still comfortable, angel?”

Aziraphale exhaled, shaky, “Yes, darling. All tickety bo -  _ oh _ .”

The breath was punched out of him as the forked tongue of his voyeur licked up his inner thighs and lapped the wetness leading towards the aching of his core. Pulling against the soft-lined cuffs on his wrists, Aziraphale choked out a helpless and breathless,  _ ‘Crowley’ _ which was answered with the scrape of nails against the swell of his hip.

They’d been at this for a few hours - since Crowley had appeared to the threshold of their room with a box full of the sweetest fruits and chocolates and the most indulgent pastries that Aziraphale loved. He’d pressed a slice of pineapple against the pouting lips and pulled the waistcoat off his shoulders; a cherry licked into the seams of his mouth with a kiss and the bow tie came untied; and it continued until they were divested of every stitch of clothing. Crowley had started him off, opening him up with long, dexterous fingers and leaving little bite marks on the soft skin of his arse. Which is how they ended up where they were now.

Crowley lifted himself up from the crux of the plush thighs, “I got you, love. Here,” the fingers on his hip danced off and plucked something from the box on the bed, crinkling paper and bringing a sinfully red, chocolate dipped strawberry from the crepe-papered lined box. “Eat up.”

Aziraphale’s lips parted as the tip of the fruit rubbed against them, encouraged by the hand cupping his chin to take a bite. The sticky juices dripped down his neck towards his chest and was licked up by the naughty, slitted tongue. Between the sensation of damp warmth on his neck and the sweet-bitter tang in his mouth, Aziraphale cried out in anguish. The talented tongue lathed him in attention as the juices of the fruit dropped against his skin and was sucked clean. Neck, nipples, stomach, and right against the fine white curls of his crotch before moving back up.

“Please, Crowley,” he said, pressing up against the mouth, cunt clenched against his emptiness. “More. Give me more.”

“More fruit? A succulent peach or maybe some pineapple” asked Crowley, the strawberry coming up to press against his own lips. “Or something more?”

The wide, pupil-blown eyes followed the trail of the red fruit against the wicked red mouth, and he licked his lips, “More, more, Crowley. You,  _ please _ . Let me taste you, darling.”

Crowley’s tongue swirled around the berry, wrapping around with his agile tongue, and bit the fruit, letting out a loud groan as the flavor burst against his buds. He made a production of sucking the fruit dry, long tongue running over the trail of excess sweet as those more black than hazel eyes tracked his moves.

“Alright, love. I’ll give you what you want. Anything you want.”

Aziraphale’s quiet moan was swallowed into Crowley’s mouth as he gave him a kiss, sloppy and mingling the taste of strawberries and chocolate as their tongues slid against each other and chased the lingering flavor unique to each other. Then Crowley gripped the soft curls in his long-fingered grasp and pulled Aziraphale’s head back to meet his eye.

“You know the signal?” 

When the head under his grasp nodded, Crowley’s smile grew wicked as he slithered up the soft chest, pressing a final kiss to the gaping angel below him, “Good boy. Now, eat up - devour me.”

The wet, pink folds of Crowley’s vulva blossomed before Aziraphale’s hungry gaze and, with the hand still tangled between the curls, his watering mouth was guided towards the glistening lips. Aziraphale set to work as he would a fine dinner at the Savoy or Ritz, tongue - bastardly human but still wickedly capable - wriggling in a flicking motion up and down the soft velvet of Crowley’s cunt. Crowley’s hand tightened, pulling his head where he wanted it until the cute upturn of Aziraphale’s nose pressed perfectly against his throbbing clit and the tongue pulsed in and out of his deepest parts. The pale wrists struggled against their restraints, manicured fingers pressing against the meat of his palm as if it were the thin thighs around his head.

A hiss escaped when Aziraphale’s mouth widened, much like taking a bite of an apple, and gave a  _ slurp _ that Crowley rode against with an arc of his long back. The obscene wet sounds of Aziraphale gorging himself echoed in the large room and harmonized with the heavy pants and praises out of Crowley’s mouth.

“Gorgeous, greedy thing,” he said, exposing Aziraphale’s moan as he maneuvered his open mouth towards his clit where his tongue and lips took the place of his nose and gave a mighty suck that had Crowley tumbling over the edge, gushing into the waiting mouth. “ _ Magnificent  _ thing. Enough. You deserve  _ so _ much more, let me switch things up. Let me give you a little taste of something else.”

His fingers massaged the throbbing scalp and he pressed a kiss, and another, to the shiny lips and tasted his own come with the lasting sweetness of fruit, shimmying down his body and pressing kisses against the flushed skin.

Aziraphale squirmed as the kisses went further down and left a trail of wet, stickiness in Crowley’s wake.

“Alright, love. Here, now we can both enjoy,” Crowley swung his legs over the wide hips, thrusting his rear and still dripping cunt against the waiting warmth of that mouth as he leant forward to nose against the wiry curls and he licked over the seam of Aziraphale’s dripping Effort. 

The moan out of Aziraphale’s mouth vibrated against Crowley and he answered by wrapping his long tongue around his red and engorged clit, the reverb against him turned into a strangled sob. Before he was able to question his lover, the tongue against him flattened and pressed against his oversensitive folds. The grip on the strong, thick thighs tightened and Crowley struggled to pull away from the delicious meal before him.

“Ngk, hold on,” said Crowley as he pressed a kiss against Aziraphale’s labia. A snap of his fingers released Aziraphale’s wrists. “Alright angel, eat up.”

Released from his prison, Aziraphale’s hands came to cup Crowley’s perfect handful of arse and pull him flush against his mouth, tongue and clever, roughened fingers interchangeably thrusting deeper into Crowley. Another orgasm crescendoed, perfectly synchronized with that of Aziraphale as he flooded into his mouth.

Underneath him, Aziraphale leaned against his pillow, catching his breath, only to be met with Crowley’s wicked smile and the transformation of his dripping cunt into a red and curving cock. 

“Uh, uh, angel,” he said, stroking the already hardening length. “I’m not through with you yet. You want some more chocolate before I feed you this?”

The exhaustion on his face slipped off as he reached into the box and plucked a round and ripe peach, taking a dribbling bite from it, “Oh, Crowley, it’s too good.” 

“No, no, my love,” he said, free hand pressing the peach back to his mouth and licking around his mouth. “You’re going to keep going. And then I’ll give you what you want.”

A moan and Aziraphale took bite after juicy bite from the fruit until only the pit was left, “Please. Oh, Crowley, feed me your cock.”

He lapped up the remains of that peach and pressed a lasting kiss before bringing that eager mouth down around his leaking cock. Just as Aziraphale chased the pleasure in Crowley’s cunt, he took him as deep as his throat would allow, sucking and bobbing around the fullness in his mouth. 

“You’re so good,” said Crowley, stroking the fine white hand. “So eager and hungry. But, ngh, don’t let me come. I want to come buried in your cunt, in your ass, deep inside you.”

Another moan around him as the blunt tongue came to run under the vein, swirling around the tip as he let go with a loud and satisfied pop. He licked off the precum off his face like a cat licking the cream.

“Crowley, in me, please love.”

“Anything for you.”

Crowley gave himself a few strokes to prepare and rearranged them so he was looking back into the desperate and flushed face below him. He spread Aziraphale’s legs wider, then sunk into the wetness with one easy stroke and a satisfied grunt that mingled with the whimper of pleasure from below him.

One shallow thrust and their pace was set, Crowley pulling almost all the way out before setting a quick and punishing rhythm, hitting the right angle inside the angel and welcoming a litany of pleasured sounds from Aziraphale.

“Take me so well, dove,” he said, hips stuttering in its rhythm. “So good for me, so sweet. Wet little cunt for me and then, if you want, we can do it all again. Keep you nice and fed, right?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale whimpered. “So good to me. So good. Love you, I love you.”

“I love you, too, my angel, my love,” moaned Crowley. “Come for me. Come now, love.”

With a strangled moan that was muffled by the kiss accepted from above him, Aziraphale and Crowley came together, riding the last of their ecstasy until they were drained and collapsed onto the bed.

They shared soft, languid kisses, caressing the cooling skin and pulling each other closer. Crowley pressed loving words into his cheeks, his mouth, his chest with Aziraphale returning the favor.

“Sated?”

Aziraphale chuckled and sucked Crowley’s lower lip into his mouth, “For now. But we might need another round later.”

A laugh returned as Crowley sunk into the softness of his love, “Anything for you, my love. But now - we sleep.”

Curled around one another, the two drifted into a cozy rest - the promise of their love drifting around them.


End file.
